breathless
by tatty ted
Summary: The sound of smashing glass breaks through her thoughts and as she stares at the broken glass on the floor, she realises it represents how she feels. Completely shattered, completely broken. - —Jill/Gordon, set after the last episode.


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**breathless**  
_slowing down, I'm amazed._

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She stands outside theatre, trying to compose herself and steady her breathing.

Her husband, she breaths, her husband's dying in there from internal bleeding; caught up in something he couldn't foresee. And she's just stood outside, with Matron for company, distraught and helpless because she can't do anything to help.

He can't die. Fuck, he just can't. She hadn't even considered living without Gordon, why would she? They still had plenty of years left with each other (least that's what she thought and hoped)

"A cup of hot sweet tea for Doctor Weatherill."

"I don't want a cup of tea, I want my husband!"

She stares into the operating theatre, staring at his body as its been worked on. She twirls her ring around her finger, around and around wondering how she's going to break the news _if_ he dies. How can she inform Katie, Tom and Jonathon that their father wasn't coming home? Their father, their role-model was dead?

"Here you go," Matron's voice breaks through her thoughts as she hands her a cup of sweet tea. It's funny how the English always deal with shock through tea with five sugars, funny how the british were found of their tea.

She accepts the tea from Matron but doesn't quite hold it properly. The mug falls from her grip and smashes against the floor, echoing down the corridor. Jill looks down at the shattered pieces of mug and realises how much they represent her heart at that moment — shattered.

"Oh dear, I'll clean it up." Matron begins until Jill slides down the wall, hugging her knees and crying uncontrollably. She couldn't help but allow the thought to cross her mind that she was been punished for her actions in life, was she going to lose Gordon because she fell in love with him before Caroline's death?

"Doctor Weatherill?" Matron cannot help but be concerned over the younger woman. Not only was she crying uncontrollably, she was sat amongst glass and Matron didn't want another casualty tonight, Doctor Ormerod was enough; "come and wait in my office dear."

Jill puts her hand on Matron's arm; "I can't leave him!"

"He's in the best possible hands."

She closes her eyes when she hears Matron say those words. The same words she'd repeated countless of times to patient's families when they've paced the corridor, anxiously waiting for news. She knew it was true, Gordon _was_ in the best possible hands. Mr Rose could fix anything and anyone but Jill was realistic that as good as Mr Rose was, he couldn't always save everyone and she wasn't prepared to allow Gordon to become a statistic. She needed him, the children needed him.

Jill reluctantly agrees to wait in Matron's office rather than outside theatre. She glances back at the body of her husband, clinging on to every small piece of life he had left and swallows hard. She follows Matron down the corridor and towards her office and she sits there, absent-minded staring at the white walls and the books on the bookcase. She thought about praying (though she wasn't overly religious, she'd grown out of her faith as a teen)

"You should rest," Matron says but knows Jill wouldn't take her advice. She's left alone in the room, emotionally exhausted but knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep properly until Gordon was okay, until his life wasn't touch or go anymore. She calls Sarah, the children's nanny and informs her she won't be home. She doesn't leave any details she doesn't want Sarah or the children to worry.

She rests her head on the desk for a brief second and falls asleep, dreaming of happier times with Gordon. The day they got married, shared their first kiss, brought their first house and Jonathon's birth. Memories/events in their life that could easily become something of the past if he died. She's woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder and for a second she's disorientated, not sure where she is until it comes back to her.

Gordon, the stabbing, theatre.

She makes eye contact with Matron trying to read her expression but as usual, she isn't giving anything away.

"Is he—" Jill can't bring herself to say dead because if he's dead, so is she.

"No," Matron pauses, "the next few hours are crucial but if you ask me, I think he's through the worst."

She follows Matron down the endless white corridor before they reach one of the side rooms. Jill pushes open the door and her eyes fall upon her husband, lying on the bed looking peaceful. He doesn't look injured, just asleep and she finds herself walking over to him and kissing him on the cheek.

As tears slide down her cheeks, she sits down beside Gordon, takes his hand in hers and whispers; "Oh Gordon, you gave me such a fright!"

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**jottings** / if you like it enough to favourite, please leave a review:3


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